


Ricochet

by orange_8_hands



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Things, Gen, Stanford Era, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:51:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_8_hands/pseuds/orange_8_hands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how he leaves, this is how he comes back</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ricochet

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [my LJ](http://orange-8-hands.livejournal.com/1349.html), Dec 2011.

I.

Just to be clear, Sam didn't ask Dean to come with him.

Not because it didn't occur to him, but because he didn't want to.

Just so that's clear.

  
II.

Sam left with one duffel bag holding:

\- a stack of sticky twenties Dean made two nights ago hustling pool  
\- three pairs of jeans, four pairs of socks, seven boxers, eight shirts, three overshirts, his sneakers (boots are on his feet), and one extra jacket  
\- two books, one of which was a gift Dean chucked at his head one night ago, the other from a salvation army four towns ago  
\- four photos: one of the family (mom included) that he stole from his dad's meager collection, one Pastor Jim took of Dean standing next to Sam, age nine and thirteen, ice cream still dripping from their hands, one Sam took with a crappy disposable camera of John and Dean watching TV, probably aware of him but not paying attention, Sam was going through a photography stage four years ago, and one Dean took, smirk in place, seventeen years old, a Polaroid shot slightly out of focus, Dean's face covering most of the square and just the faintest impression of blue in the upper left corner  
\- his best knife  
\- his second best knife  
\- two credit cards his Dad hadn't used yet, just picked up a week ago  
\- his admission packet  
\- his third best knife  
\- a small packet of salt  
\- a lighter  
\- a small box of condoms Dean stuck into his bag three nights ago  
\- his shampoo bottle and three of the motel's soaps

  
II.b.

Sam left behind:

\- the acceptance letter  
\- the gun he usually used  
\- a picture of John and Dean, age nineteen, in front of the Impala  
\- two pairs of dirty socks  
\- five books, including a Vonnegut he said Dean might enjoy and Dean had said back not all of us can be giant dorks  
\- a flask of holy water  
\- five fake college student IDs, two fake newspaper badges, one fake ATF badge, four fake driver's licenses adding between three to eight years to his age, and one license for the National Equipment Registry of Dicks, Detective Small  
\- his cell phone  
\- a porn magazine  
\- half a sandwich  
\- hunting

  
II.c.

"If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back." 

He adds his Dad to the second list, and if the words make him flinch they also don't make him hesitate.

  
II.d.

Dean stands there, during the shouting, and the door slamming, and the bottle of whiskey John takes out of the kitchen and sits on the couch to start on (finish it), and then Dean trails his brother the whole way to the bus station and doesn't say a goddamn word, and Sam has always loved and hated the spaces between boxes, between categories, between surety, and that was less about the monsters they hunted and more about the brother who loved to hunt them. 

  
III.

"My name is Kyle and I'll be one of your R.A.'s. You're in room 217. Here's your keys. Here's your orientation packet. Here's the vehicle pass - put this in the car window when your parents pull up, they have twenty minutes to help you unload. Be back in the dorm lobby by 9pm for your first house meeting." 

This is said fast and flat, a spiel this kid repeated fifty times already and probably has to complete another fifty times before he can call it a day, and Sam doesn't both explaining he won't need the car pass, no parents left, besides which, this duffel bag is all his stuff.

He makes it to the room, double beds, and drops his bag on the bed furthest from the door, wonders if he should start unpacking now (he's staying here, he'll be here for a while, he can use the dresser draws), and then a guy comes in, buzz cut and sharp grin and designer clothes, lugging a microwave.

He dumps it onto the desk and turns to Sam, smiles even bigger. "Hey, I'm Brady Torkin. Guess we're roommates. Hope you don't snore."

"Nah, my brother would have beat it out of me if I did that shit," and Brady laughs.

Sam holds out his hand and says, "Sam Winchester" and yeah, he can do this, he can be normal.

  
IV.

Sometimes he hustles pool. Darts. Steals, every once in a while, not like other students, hiding apples and cookies and a sandwich for later in bags, forgivable offenses, everyone does it, it's normal, hey not like you're not paying for the dining room use anyway. No, Sam steals textbooks, and bedsheets, and a towel that turned out to be too small, but it's not like he can return it, and anyway, motel rooms always had towels that were too small. He burns through John Winchester's credit cards (Malcolm Young and Tony Lommi and Jesus, Dean, really?), buys a laptop and printer from two different stores, uses the rest for a lamp and a backpack and a few posters and a laundry basket and detergent. His scholarship pays for his first semester's bills, the ones for tuition and his dorm room and his dining hall pass, but that's it, financial aid doesn't cover much more, and Sam promises himself it's the last time he'll really lie when he finishes printing off his resumes to hand around town.

He has lived in poverty his whole life, homeless except for a car and living cheaply is something he knows how to do, this is an actual skill set his Dad taught him for the real world, and even if he blushes the first time someone covers him, pays his share of a pizza, it's the new world order, and Sam pays him back, doesn't skip out of town before he can work up the money. 

It gets easier. He reaches his thirty days of employment and gets taken off training, reaches his ninety days and gets his first vacation days, reaches his one year mark and gets a raise. He makes friends with his roommate, with his dorm mates, with his classmates. He takes to tutoring on the side instead of hustling pool. He dates, occasionally, and then he meets Jess and it gets perfect. They fight, sure, but they also watch movies on her laptop and study at the same table in the library and get food off-campus, away from the cafeteria crap, and she traces his scars, sadly, after their first time, lying together in Sam's (stolen) sheets, and just kissed him when he said he didn't - couldn't - talk about it.

  
V.

He follows Dean, asking if he remembers, if he really remembers what their childhood was like, a gun for the monster in his closet and weapons training and melting silver bullets, drinking and being gone for days, the obsession that ruled their lives, Dean can handle this alone anyways, and Dean says "Yeah, well, I don't want to" and Sam gets in the car.

(It's not so much sorrow as regret, not so much regret as guilt, and he's never sure if that's why he got in the car in the beginning of the weekend or if that's just what he felt like when he closed the trunk and could still smell Jessica's flesh burning at the end of it.)


End file.
